Thinking of You
by Logical Fallacy
Summary: Amy and Ian are thrown together by Isabel. Everyday, they each get to know each other better. And everyday, though they don't know it yet, they fall more and more in love with each other.
1. Chapter 1

AMY

Ian Kabra. Usually described as aweful (-ly handsome), annoying (-ly perfect), and a new definition of the word 'jerk'. (Also a new definition for the term 'love of my life'.) _Stop it right now, Amy! Ian doesn't care for you, remember? He ruthlessly used you for a clue and then left you for dead. In a cave. With your brother. And your uncle._

Gods, now I'm just talking to myself.

Even worse: I actually can't stop thinking of him! Ugh! It's so annoying. I mean, the Jerk of Jerks heartlessly left me and my only family in a cave to die, and all I can think about is that little kiss he 'caringly' gave me right before that. It was a simple, tiny, peck; a brush of his smooth lips on mine.

Except that no matter what I do to the image I have of him in my head, I can't deny my crazy mind keeps picturing him, making him seem handsome. It's hard enough to control what you say, harder still to control what you think.

Ian is the worst thing to ever happen to me.

He is the one who made me cry because he had the power to make me smile.

He is the one who makes me feel good. I won't deny it; hanging out with him – even for a little while – made me feel confident. Well, maybe not confident, but safe somehow. Secure.

He is the one who stole my heart and broke it. But he never gave me back the pieces. He still keeps it with him, making me still his.

As a child, I used to laugh at those broken-hearted girls in the movies and books, thinking they were so weak while wondering why they just don't fix their hearts up and move on to somebody else. Now that it actually has happened to me, I think I can understand what they feel, the pain they go through.

Those jerks, heart-breakers, those _playboys_, took their hearts and broke it, but they never gave back the pieces. How is a girl to mend a broken heart without the parts?

I can actually sympathize with those girls now, something I never imagined possible. I never thought that some one would be interested in me in any way, friend or lover. I should have listened to myself. But I couldn't help who makes me feel that everything will be fine.

I can actually sympathize with that _Twilight_ girl, Bella Swan. Like her, there's a huge hole that's punched through my chest. A huge gaping hole, right through the lungs so I can't breathe. (But I still don't like Twilight. Bella's so weak. First she dates a vampire. Next, she wants to run away with it. Then, when he breaks up with her, she befriends a were-wolf and wants to run away with it too. That's just wrong. She needs therapy.)

Oh God, I swear, I'll never be so idiotic again, if I ever get myself patched up. Which is doubtful, because I'm not pretty enough to get a rebound guy.

_Rebound guy? _Where did that come from? I swear, Ian's messing up my brain even when he's not here.

But it's _Ian Kabra_. He's so… Gosh, darn it, I _have_ to stop thinking about him.

_But he saved you form the Yakuza back in Japan. Surely that must count for something. _

In my mind, I knew I was just looking for more excuses – anything that would work – to be with him. He saved me from the Yakuza, true, but he did it not because he cared about me – we didn't even _know_ each other then – but because he needed me to get the clue.

And me, little, stupid, naïve me, had to fall for his British accent and smooth talk. That's what I get for being so shy. I don't know how guys really are because I've never really hung out with one – aside from Dan – so I don't know when they're being Mr. Suave or being Mr. User.

When Ian said the word 'lovely', he probably meant, 'Lovely, everything's going as planned. She's falling for me.' He probably thought that the stupid kiss would seal the deal.

The worst part is still to come.

The worst thing is, Dan already warned me and I didn't listen.

_Dan_ warned me.

It was so obvious that Ian was just using me, that even my eleven-year-old brother could see it. Any one could have seen it coming. Every one except me, apparently. I'm such an idiot. I am so desperate for guys, any guy, that I would fall for any hickey that compliments me. Including murderers.

No, scratch that. Especially murderers. Ian is a murderer, right? Even if his first few murder attempts fail?

Yes, he is a stupid murderer-to-be.

I've spent the past ten minutes thinking about him. I should stop now.

Alright, maybe just five more minutes.

What haven't I covered yet? Ah, yes, his looks. Apparently, he's never had plastic surgery. His mom may be the one who keeps the London surgeons in business, but he's never even stepped inside the clinic, not even to accompany his mom. I find that highly impossible, but it's true. Plastic surgery can't make that evil smile, only Ian can.

Have I missed out on anything?

Oh yeah, his _good_ points.

Does he even have good points?

Okay, he probably does. I've checked his ClickMe page, and it doesn't say that his favorite childhood activity was just kicking stray puppies or kittens. Or maybe he just didn't post that. Then again, I doubt it. Only Ian would not kick stray animals because his shoes would get ruined. Wait, isn't Natalie?

I'm getting confused with which Kabra is Which. But that doesn't mean I'm in love with Natalie. Ew, gross. Now I'm just giving myself a headache. Is it even possible to give yourself a headache just by thinking of shoes?

It's probably possible for Natalie.

Oh, God, I'm turning into baby Cobra!

I'm crazy. Ian actually made me crazy. I already knew he does, but usually, I'm only going crazy when he's around. Now, I'm going crazy even when he's not here.

Ian screwed up my life in so many levels.

Back to the topic at hand. God points, good points… hm, I can't seem to think of any, other than the one where he can be a gentleman when he wants to be. Too bad he never wants to be.

I know one. He didn't laugh when I was pretending to be Julie Andrews from the _Sound of Music_ in Alistair's home in Korea. He actually defended me from Dan. Or maybe that was not a good point, just part of his plot to use me.

The door of the hotel room just opened. I didn't bother looking at who it was, since it was probably Dan. He and Nellie went to look for doughnuts.

Then something was poking my back. Something cold. The kind of cold you can only get from the barrel of a dart gun.

"Hello, love," a lovely, familiar British voice said behind me. God, his accent was heavenly. _Not now, Amy. _"Been thinking about me?"

_You have no idea, Ian._


	2. Chapter 2

IAN

Lord, I can't stop thinking about that Cahill girl. Amy. What a plain, common name to match her plain, common face. There are at least three Amy-named girls in my school back home in London, all of whom are to inherit a fortune at least ten times the amount Amy has ever thought of. So I ask myself this: What's so special about her? What's so different?

I doubt it's the way she talks. That stutter of hers is embarrassing, nothing to be proud of, and everything to be ashamed about.

Maybe it's the way she looks at, as though she's trying to figure me out. Good luck, I say to that. Not even Natalie knows of the real Ian Kabra.

Or maybe it's the fact that she doesn't fall all over herself to get to me, as the girls back in London do. It does make me a little uncomfortable at times, but it feels good.

Any of those reasons could be why I'm so – what's the word? – _intrigued_ by Amy Cahill.

No, don't worry, ladies. Ian Kabra is still free. I do not like Amy Cahill in any way, nor do I have a crush on her. I simply find her intriguing.

Who wouldn't? Her joy in running up Alistair's tiny lawn, her awe at the piddling little cubbyhole Alistair calls the 'Oh Sanctum' – I didn't think it possible to gain so much happiness from so little. She's a living human-interest story.

I don't know what amazes me more, though: The fact that she thought that I could fall for some one as pitiful as her, or the fact that her brother saw it coming.

Her brother, the oh-so-oblivious-to-the-world Daniel, is the one who warned Amy of my plan. He is another human-interest story. Who could have thought that Daniel Cahill predicted the Kabras? Certainly not _me_.

In that cave back all the way back in Paris, I was amazed to find Daniel solving the magic square. I would have thought it to be Amy, the know-it-all.

I hadn't put any faith in the plan, not thinking I would succeed. I half-expected them to sneak away in the dead of the night while we were sleeping, taking the Hideyoshi coin with them.

But deep down, I knew my worries were ill placed; they were the _Cahills_. They were the only team who doesn't know their own branch, the only team who would rather take the diplomatic approach before the violent one. (Aside from Alistair, but he doesn't count because he backstabs like the rest of them.) And yet, I could not shake that feeling off. My whole life was spent watching my parents and their so-called friends backstab each other. I knew that was meant to be my life, the one I was destined to have. So I trained my self not to trust people easily; therefore it was only instinct to distrust the Cahills.

The girl, Amy. She was too naive, so much that I almost hesitated to leave her in the cave. I'd already decided to let them live, until the moment I reminded myself that she wouldn't hesitate to do that to me were the situation reversed. So I shut the cave door.

Speaking of doors…

"Ian! Let me in!" Ah, my dear sister Natalie was banging on the custom-made oak wood doors.

I sighed, got out of the bed, and walked toward the door slowly, if for no other reason than to irritate her. When I reached it, I took a deep breath and counted to three before opening. "What?"

She stood there, already dressed in a sea-green dress and those stupid and scandalously high heels. What is it with girls and those heels? I detested them; they hurt a lot when pressed on your foot. I should know. She's done it to me before.

I wondered vaguely if Amy wore them.

Natalie huffed before answering, "Dear Lord, what took you so long? Don't answer that. It's time."

Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. Natalie and I were assigned by mother to go into the Cahill's hotel and… retrieve them for her. We'd spent days planning this. "Now?"

"Yes – no, in five minutes, once you've changed in to something more appropriate." Natalie smirked.

I looked down and blushed, shutting the door too quickly. Indeed, I was wearing nothing but my boxers. I debated idly what Amy's reaction would be if I went to her hotel like this. She would probably blush. Was her blush contagious?

One blue Armani polo shirt (unbuttoned at the top two buttons), pair of trousers, and black oxford shoes later, I was ready to go. I headed downstairs to the lobby where I knew the limousine would be waiting.

"There you are, Ian; hurry up," Natalie called. She surveyed my attire critically. "Un-tuck the shirt. You look like a dork."

I did as I was told without complaint. There were some instances where I would be ready to argue with Natalie, but anything related to clothes … she would murder me. "Better?"

"Much."

We stepped inside the limo in silence. The rest of the ride to Amy's hotel was quiet too. Well, _most_ of it. Natalie was just looking out at the streets of Madrid, while I spent the time thinking of other interesting things about the Cahill girl.

I wondered what made her so shy. Would she still be like this if she grew up like a Kabra? Would she still stutter? Would she still love books as much as she did now? Or would she be like Natalie – I shuddered at the thought of two of them – shopaholic extraordinaire, master of shooting darts? I could not picture this 'sweet', innocent, and naïve girl trying to kill some one. The mental image was just _wrong_.

My mind went to more frivolous topics. Does she like the same books I do? I hoped she didn't like the Twilight Saga; what's with the vampire craze anyway? Vampires don't sparkle, and they're evil, end of story. I can withstand the Harry Potter series, as well as the classics, but I don't hold any particular interests. I prefer manuals and magazines, preferably the ones featuring the Kabra family.

And what about television shows? I doubt she watches Glee. I don't, due to the fact that it's too dramatic.

Music tastes? I had a feeling we shared that one in common. Back in Venice, while I was playing the harpsichord, I noticed her looking at me playing KV 617. I could tell by her face that she liked the sound. I liked it, too. Classical music makes me feel at peace, a feeling I hardly experience anymore, especially since the start of the hunt.

"Hey." Natalie the Rude snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why? It's not like you to think of others."

Natalie shrugged. "The rules are different when I'm bored."

I stared at her a while longer, waiting to see if it were a joke, then shrugged back at her. "The Cahill girl."

She made a strangled sound. "What? You don't like her, do you? Dear Prada" – she gasped – "you _do_! You _totally_ do!"

I just looked at her, watching her jump from conclusion to conclusion. "What makes you say that?" I finally asked, amused.

"You're thinking of her!" Natalie screeched her voice grating in my ears. She hit me on the arm. "Oh, bloody hell, when mum finds out…"

I laughed, causing her to glare at me. "First, I don't like her. I simply find her interesting. Second, I was only comparing her differences. Third, she's just a penniless American with a git of a brother, the two things I would never in a million years like, even if you paid me with all the clues."

Natalie relaxed visibly. "Oh, okay."

"Yeah, _okay_."

The rest of the trip was silent, for which I was grateful. I don't think I could stop from laughing at another outburst similar to that. It would be too much for me to handle. Natalie was so funny, thinking I could actually have any romantic feelings for the Cahill girl. It was impossible for me not to laugh.

I was saved from laughing again when the driver announced, "We're here, Ms. and Mr. Kabra."

We stepped outside the limo and into the hotel. If you could call it a hotel. The building looked like a prison. Natalie wrinkled her nose as she passed through the… establishment.

A young man – the bellboy – waved at us, trying to get our attention. We paused and turned to glance at him. "Excuse me," he said, his Spanish accent thick, "but you have to check in."

Natalie curled her lips. "Tell us where Amelia and Daniel Cahill are staying," she said, passing three hundred Euros to him discreetly, "and you may keep the money."

He eyed the bills in wonder. "Um – enjoy your stay, Mr. and Ms. Smith. Right this way."

We followed him into the elevators. He led us to the sixth floor and towards the final door. "Here we are."

"Thank you." I waited until he disappeared around the corner and got out my lock-picking set. I picked the lock easily. It was one of those cheap, ugly doorknobs you find at the seventy-percent-off sale.

We opened the door cautiously and tiptoed inside. Amy was sitting on a beaten-down chair, facing away from us. We stole quietly towards her. She still didn't hear us.

We were poised behind her, ready to strike. My sister looked at me and I nodded. She took out her favorite dart gun from her pocket.

"Hello, love," I said, watching Natalie point the dart gun at her back. "Been thinking about me?"


	3. Chapter 3

IAN

I watched as she turned around stiffly, her red face matching her hair. It's probably due to anger. Who wouldn't be angry at an intruder? Nonetheless, it didn't suit her. It was – how do I say this? – unbecoming.

"What," she gasped out, "are you doing here?"

I laughed silently at her expression. Her naturally meek face was mixed with fury, making it similar to a tomato. It didn't match her quiet disposition. Quite funny, really. "Is that how you treat boys, Amy? No wonder you have no boyfriend."

Amy's face turned even redder – if possible – making her expression all the more comical. "What makes you say I have no boyfriend?"

"Are you saying you do? Who is he, then?"

She looked away, most likely embarrassed. "I asked why you're here, you know. You could at least answer before you insult me."

"I'm here to play games with your brother, and my sister's here to play dress-up with you." I replied in a chipper voice. Then, going back to my normal tone, "What do you think?"

"Really, Amy," added Natalie, "I doubt all poor people are this dumb. You're a disgrace to the Cahills and, apparently, poor people too."

Amy's eyes narrowed. "At least I don't pretend to be perfect."

"Only because you know you'd never be." I cut in before Amy could reply.

"Shut up, Natalie. Amy, please cooperate" – she shot me an incredulous look – "or we'll be forced to hurt Daniel." She looked away defiantly. Despite the seriousness of the situation, the look on her face made me want to burst out laughing.

"Oh, just do it, Amy. We'll get what we want in the end; you'd just be making it easier for us. Spare yourself the pain and all." Natalie's voice was laced with a faux sweet, innocent tone.

"What do you need me for? Or Dan, for that matter? Can't you just leave us alone? You keep saying it yourself – we're the underdogs, so what do you need from us?"

"Believe me, we would," my sister replied. "I'd rather not go looking for orphans in cement huts they call a hotel, but–" she paused here, looking around the room distastefully "–even though we have better things to do, mother told us to take you back to base. She wants to~"

"Lemme guess," a voice said behind us. "Kill us? Torture us? Or ask for our clues?"

I spun around and faced the brother, Daniel. Or Dan, as he liked to be called. The nose-ringed nanny was no where to be found. I was surprised – I thought it to be impossible for the energetic child to be stealthy – or quiet, for that matter.

"Hello? I asked you a question, Cobra!"

I winced. "Please refrain from using that nickname. Jokes aren't as funny the second time, and this was never a humorous matter to begin with." Daniel kept silent, still waiting for my reply to his previous question. "She'd probably do all of that, except you got the order wrong. Torture, get the clues, and _then_ kill you." Natalie didn't bother trying to stifle her chuckle.

"And you're laughing about it? How sick _are _you?" Amy's voice was incredulous.

"I know I'm sick of you," muttered Natalie, loud enough for all four of us in the room to hear.

"Oh, how mature, Cobra," Dan shot back in his sister's defense.

Natalie had no reply to that.

"Oh, shut up, both of you," I snapped. "In all honesty, you act like a married couple. I expected this from Dan, but not from you, Natalie."

"Yes, mum," Natalie said meekly, yet smirking. "Come along now, children. We have to get you back to base. Mum – Isabel, I mean, not Ian – would probably be furious by now." Amy and Dan looked at her as though she's grown a second head.

"You honestly expect us to come along with you willingly?" Amy said. She stared at us, as if she were waiting for us to deny it. "Oh, my dear, fu~"

"Now, Amy," I admonished. "No need to foul the room with your crude language."

"No need to foul the room with your crude language," imitated Dan. "Seriously, though, you guys are crazy. Almost as bad as Momma Cobra. Nellie went to call security as soon as we heard you talking. They'll be here any minute now."

Natalie and I exchanged a look and laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," I said, while wiping fake tears out of my eyes. "It's just – you really expect this run-down, cheapskate hotel to have _security_? And you call _us_ crazy."

"Ian, dearest," Natalie stopped laughing rather abruptly and pointed her dart gun at the orphans again. "We should get going. Security or not, there are people here who would like to go home and take a shower. I am one of them."

"I agree, sister."

With a large, taunting grin, Natalie shot both of them with her gun. There was no noise, no bang, nothing whatsoever to warn them of the incoming projectiles. One dart buried itself in Dan's arm, the other in Amy's shoulder. Both Cahills stumbled around like drunkards before collapsing on the floor.

I went over to Amy's body and said, "Don't worry, love. The darts are harmless, save for the sleeping drug. When you wake up, you won't feel a thing."

"Unfortunately," added my sister.

We half-dragged, half-carried both siblings towards the window. I sent a message to the driver via communicator that we were done. Soon, we could hear the tires of our limousine on the road below.

Using the portable cable harness I bring everywhere, we tied the Cahills up and waited for the driver to come and collect. He climbed through the window and lowered both their bodies down towards the car. That was one of the good things about Lucians, we could make sure to provide a distraction so no busybody would be looking through the window for the next few minutes.

Once we were sure the Cahill siblings were secured, we went down again to the Lobby's main exit. The bellboy smiled at us and said, "Thank you, Mr. and Ms. Smith."

We went inside the limo where both of them were waiting, still asleep.

"Ian," Natalie said when we were a good three miles away from the hotel, "why do you insist of calling Amy 'love'? It's inappropriate behavior for a captor to be flirting with their victim."

"Oh," I said sarcastically, "there's an etiquette book for captors and their victims now? Seriously, Natalie, what's so wrong about trying to get under Amy's skin?"

"It doesn't _look_ like you're trying to get under Amy's skin," said Natalie, frowning.

"Then what does it look like then?" I asked.

"It looks to me as though you _like_ Amy," said Natalie.

"No, I don't," I protested. "Amy is the enemy."

"And isn't it in all the books the bad guy falls in love with the good guy?" she retorted.

"Books are wrong," I said. "Most of the time, the author bases the protagonist on himself and writes down events that they want to happen to them."

"But still – isn't there a saying 'opposites attract'?"

I snorted. "That's only true for magnets, and I'm not a magnet, now am I?"

"Alright," said Natalie, resigned to the fact that her brother wasn't in love with Amy Cahill. "Just be careful."

"For what?"

Natalie frowned, unused to showing the caring side of her. "I don't really have any idea. I just have a feeling that something big is going to happen. With – with you and Amy."

"Trust me, Natalie," I said, trying to ease her worries. "Nothing is going to happen. If it makes you feel better, I'll even stay away from her."

"Okay," she said unsurely. Then she caught herself, straightening up and smoothing her face in to an impassive expression. "It's not like I care or anything, it's just that~"

I laughed. "Don't worry; your secret is safe with me."

"It better be."

...ooo000O000ooo…

I woke up the next day to the sound of Natalie banging on my door.

"Ian," she screamed, "open up!"

I got up lazily and walked slowly to the door, just to irk her. I smirked when I remember that I did the same thing yesterday.

"What?" I demanded upon opening the door.

"It's the Cahill brats."

"What about them?" I asked, yawning.

"Mother made it sound as though they were our guests, can you believe it? And now, like proper hosts, we have to spend the day with them! Well, you have to spend the whole day with Amelia and I have to spend the day with Daniel."

This woke me up. "She did _what_?"

"Don't make me repeat myself. Now I have to cancel my shopping trip~" I blocked her out as she continued whining.

The _whole_ day with that girl? What was mother thinking? They know they're our captives; she didn't have to tell them otherwise.

"Natalie," I said, cutting her short from her rant. "Where are they?"

She wrinkled her nose. "They're in the suite in the floor below ours, having breakfast. We're to join them immediately."

I sighed, accepting the fact that, as of today, the Cahills were out 'guests'. Mother better have a good reason for doing this. "I guess I should go and get changed."

Natalie looked at my attire, which consisted of only my boxers and a fitted shirt. "Yes," she agreed, "You should."

"Tell Mother that I'll be down in a minute." I said, shutting the door.

I changed into a casual attire – pants, polo shirt, and Oxford shoes. I sighed again, and then headed upstairs to eat breakfast with the Cahills.

I paused before entering the door. Laughter could be heard from the outside. I wondered briefly what they found so amusing before opening the door.

Inside was a suite like mine, only a bit smaller. The siblings were seated on the mahogany dining table in the middle of the dining room. The laughter stopped quickly as they caught sight of me.

"Hello," I greeted, taking the seat across Amy. Natalie still had yet to come. "Please, don't let me interrupt you. Continue."

Amy and Daniel shared a look. Whenever they do that, I get the feeling that they're having a private conversation with their minds alone.

"H-hello, Ian," Amy finally said, hesitantly. Daniel snorted. Makes sense; I did kidnap them, after all.

"So, how was your night? I trust you found it pleasant?"

"Yeah, aside from the fact that we didn't really ask to sleep." Daniel muttered, but I still heard him.

"I apologize," Natalie said as she entered the room. "It was necessary."

"Necessary, my butt."

"Really, Daniel, do you have to be so vulgar?" said Natalie.

"Does it annoy you?"

"Yes."

"Then, yes, I have to be vulgar."

"Dan," chided Amy. "Don't."

"Amy, you may have accepted the fact that we're stuck here for the rest of our lives, but I haven't. So don't don't tell me that you want me to obey their every order." Amy remained silent, turning red and looking down.

"And this is how you treat your own sister?" I asked, feigning curiosity. "I thought that since she's all you have left, you would treat her better."

He scowled at me. "Don't you start on me, too, Cobra." He got up and left the table.

"I should follow him," announced Natalie. "He _is_ my responsibility for the day."

"You go ahead," I replied. "I'll wait for Amy." Natalie left in Dan's direction.

"You don't have to," mumbled Amy.

"Beg pardon?"

"You don't have to wait for me," she said, still softly. "I'm perfectly capable of eating alone."

"I don't really have a choice," I admitted. "Just like Dan is Natalie's responsibility, you're _my_ responsibility. I have to make sure you're treated like a proper guest."

"Why?" she asked, curiosity burning in her voice.

I laughed. "Why? Because Mother said so."

"And you always obey Isabel?" she said, frowning.

"Amy, she tried to drown you. She won't hesitate to do that to me."

"But you're her son," she protested.

"It doesn't matter to her."

"Why not?"

That put me of guard. I've always wondered that same question. "I wouldn't matter because to her, I'm just the heir to the Lucian throne."

"That's horrible."

"No, it's not," I said. "I completely agree with her."

"_Why?"_

I pondered that for a moment. "Because," I finally said, "Lucians – and Januses, Ekatrinas, and Tomases – have spent the past five hundred years looking for these clues. And now, the hunt finally going to end. We're so close to finally winning and don't want to let any thing stand in our way."

"So that's why I'm here."

"Yes."

There was no noise while Amy and I finished eating. I could tell that she was thinking about what I said, and, honestly, I was too.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up the next morning with a feeling of comfort. I felt relaxed. Content. Happy somehow. But as good as it was, it felt wrong. I shouldn't be comfortable; this is the Clue Hunt, the deadliest 'scavenger' hunt ever done. It's where kids pretend to be murderers, and adults _become_ murderers. Being relaxed and comfortable has no place in the Hunt, at least for Dan and me. The Kabras, on the other hand, can afford to take a break every once in a while. Heck, they don't even need to join the Hunt. They have the money, the resources…

The Kabras!

Just like that, everything came back to me with a bang. Well, most of it. I can only remember the parts when they snuck into our room… oh, right. Natalie shot us with that stupid dart gun of hers. What kind of parents allow their kids to carry dart guns around with them, you ask? Isabel and Vikram Kabra, that's who.

If I was here, on this comfortably soft bed with matching fluffy pillows, then where was Dan? I needed to find him if I want to get out of here.

I sat up on the bed and looked around the room for the first time. It was huge, bigger than any room that I've stayed in. It had a home-y feel to it, but there was an underlying sense of danger.

Across the room was a wooden desk with intricate carvings running down the sides. Beside that were two doors. On either side of me were two bedside tables, each one holding a lamp. The walls were covered with paintings, which I found puzzling because I thought paintings were a Janus thing. The floor was covered with a thick, gold carpet. I touched it tentatively with my big toe, in case there were booby traps. There weren't.

The carpet was so soft, I realized, planting both feet firmly on the ground. I wouldn't mind sleeping on it. I stood up, relishing the feel of the fluffy materials beneath my toes. It was springy, too. Dan would probably use his as a trampoline.

Dan!

Okay, Amy, focus. Keep your head in the game, or else either Dan or you will end up dead.

Considering our other options, that ain't half-bad.

Okay, I know I don't deserve this anymore, after saying that I would discontinue, but I realized that I don't want to. I have not plot, no idea, but I want to continue. It's a challenge, and I can't resist challenges.

This isn't a whole chapter, this is just a symbol of my little promise to you guys that I will continue, and I won't stop until I finish.

I still need help, though. Any ideas for what will happen to this story? I know there are some awesome 39C writers out there, so what should happen with this story? It's going to be and AmyIan fic, but I'm leaning towards the "they-want-to-be-together-but-they-just-can't-so-they-avoid-each-other-but-they-really-like-each-other" ending. That way, there might be a chance for a sequel.

I will do the supernatural twist bit, and I'll try to infuse all those wonderful ideas into it. It won't be strictly AmyIan, but there will be hints. Oh, and I'm going to start from the very first book, Maze of Bones. Like a rewrite, but with a twist. It won't follow the plot to-the-letter, but you can tell where I got from the books and where I added my twists.

Love ya'll. Review and tell me what you think should happen to the story, 'kay?


	5. Chapter 5

I have just posted the rewrite on the archive. It's the same as this story, except Amy doesn't like him as much as she did in the start. This will be discontinued and redone in the other one. (Loving Shadows)

The new one is darker, but it's safe for the general audience. I apologize for any inconveniences.

I will still be doing another one with the supernatural twist.

-Thea

**EDIT: If you want to see the continuation of this story, check out my WordPress site. The link is on my profile. As of today (January 19, 2011), the continuation hasn't been posted yet, but I plan to update it there soon. If you want to know the reason why I'm only updating there, it's written on one of my posts at the homepage. (Post title: **_**Okay**_**)**


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